I have had nothing to do in any way, shape or form with the mailing of these anthrax letters, and it is extremely wrong for anyone to contend or suggest that I have.
quote by Steven Hatfill

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Related quotes
After eight months of one of the most intensive public and private investigations in American history, no one - no one - has come up with a shred of evidence that I had anything to do with the anthrax letters. I have never worked with anthrax. I know nothing about this matter.
quote by Steven Hatfill

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After reviewing the polygraph charts in private, the polygraph examiner told me that I had passed and that he believed I had nothing to do with the anthrax letters.
quote by Steven Hatfill

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Countess: Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech.
line from All's Well That Ends Well, Act I, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1605)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Turn it
I would like to suggest
a universal form
is the discipline
to write history
I would like to suggest changes in the relationship
towards a goal
I'm going to frontload
In fact, I'd like to argue
not the history of childhood
or great American conquest
and the myths that we believe in
but by our own experience
infused with a spirit of grace
radically changed
beautifully formed
like an individual
poem by Tanec Rayl

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I have always been a writer of letters, and of long ones; so, when I first thought of writing a book in the form of letters, I knew that I could do it quickly and easily.
quote by Laurence Housman

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amar Singh, A Political Middleman
A political middleman,
Other's weakness is his greatest strength,
Trusts only himself
And likes to be trusted,
A political commission agent,
Helps others bail out of their problems,
On hefty commission,
He is adept in the art of making wrong
A perfect right,
He is loquacious, And people take delight in this habit,
First he saves himself,
And then growls at others,
A perfect baldy and short man,
But ranks himself among film stars,
He is favourite to the star of the millenium,
Who is extremely cautious about his image,
But I am sorry to make out
In what way he(Mr. Bachchan) will be able to save his image
In the company of a middleman,
He(the middleman) has hitherto been able to save himself,
For he has readymade traps(CD's) for others,
He has an art of black mailing others,
He black mails others with the help of the court,
Neither court has a least feeling of being utilized
Nor the victim has a single hint of being black mailed,
And thus he serves his purpose,
What a man he is!
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir

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Curses
Curses may belittle the mailing of thoughts
That are derived by the eye of intelligence.
Curses made munching a task by the wrong spider,
A slave-animal hasn’t got too many fleas.
poem by Naveed Akram

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I Need The Quiet And The Silence
I need the quiet and the silence
The pain is too much
I need to hear nothing but quiet
So I can contend with the pain
It hurts
It aches
And I need to give my mind the strength
To contend with it-
Quiet and more quiet
And I will try to contend with it
Though I don't know if I can.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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That Letter
i will be honest with you
i once wrote a letter
for you
many years ago
telling
that I LOVE YOU
but then something
wrong went with my mind
childish, immature
selfish,
fleshy, they call me
i took the letter
and read it again
under the lamp
dim
near my bed
i was hesitant to tell
you what i really feel
because i know
you would not believe me
anyway
(liar! liar! you always
call me that name)
and so let me be honest
with you
i decided not to send
it
despite its truth
i folded it
shaped it into the form
of a japanese crane
(origami, that is the
art of paper folding
and the japanese believe
that an origami crane
can cure the sick
the loved one
and i believe that
too)
i looked at it carefully
when it was finished
the shape of
a crane, the white one
with letters on it
and then i opened
my window
it was cold and dark
and i sent the
crane into the
open space
beyond me
i never dreamed
that it will reach
you
i did not believe
in love
i did not believe
in you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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One Cannot Live Another Person's Life/ Even By Envying Them
ONE CANNOT LIVE ANOTHER PERSON’S LIFE
One cannot live another person’s life
Even by envying them-
Those who have more than I have
Those who have more and better
Those who were greater at what I most wanted to be
Those who have lived longer and happier
Those who outdid me in every day
They have their own lives and stories
And must contend with what they have to contend with-
I must contend not with their stories but only with mine-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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A Word
If I make a word
it is first sculpted from letters
on the page
a canvass across which
letters skate
from margin to margin transforming
into meanings and sentences
which give us art, science, poetry
and civilization.
This is created from an arbitrary entity,
the scratchings we call letters
which in turn form yet another
mysterious entity we call the alphabet.
What manner of miracle is this?
All of civilization is born from
these scribbly scratchings?
So if each letter is an imaginary entity,
an arbitrary symbol we made up
which has no meaning by itself
and lives inside another arbitrary entity
we call the alphabet
we may properly ask
what is going on here?
Meaning here is deriving from an arbitrary nothingness
arbitrarily created from arbitrary letters
by virtue of common agreement around
what words will mean?
Ponder this:
we too, as individuals are letter unique
and, in our variety, form a kind of human alphabet.
What we all mean and can mean to each other
therefore depends upon the words we form
in our families and communities; our human alphabets.
So, one word letters such as 'I' are too self-regarding
and are narcissistic anomalies
not true words at all.
Better words have more syllables than that
and have enabled us to form social sentences
more complex
which we can use for good or ill
peace or war, love or hate.
So watch your words and sentences
don't swing them recklessly in a crowded room
you'll put somebody's mind out
or create genius.
Big responsibility this
especially for us poets.
So in the end
in mass society
you and I are a single letter
but combined create all there is.
You can take that
as the first
and last
Word
And by the way
arbitrary letters
are electrons at the sub-atomic level
and combine to make molecules
and the greatest meaning of all
All of the Universe.
poem by Lonnie Hicks

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There are moments when very little truth would be enough to shape opinion. One might be hated at extremely low cost.
quote by Jean Rostand

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shape Me Like A Man
Spark my body into existence
Breath your life into me
Fill these eyes with temptation
Work your mystery
Make me in the image you desire
Raise me up from the earth
Let me be your creation
Women, give me birth
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Put this broken body in motion
With a strong and natural drive
Fill my flesh with sensation
Women let me know Im alive
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Make me like a man
song performed by by Gino Vanelli

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letters Never Sent
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
In a suitcase tied with string
On the highest shelf
In the closet down the hall
Hidden from myself
Fits of madness, pools of grief
Fevers of desire
How peculiar these remain
Slavaged from the fire
For some I crumpled some I burned
Some I tore to shreds
Lifetimes later, here they are
Ones I saved instead
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Never reached their destination
Mostly born of pain
Resurfaced with the purpose of
A trip down memory lane
Broken hearted, breaking hearts
All the way it went
Evidence of what I saw
My experiments
Lifes a riddle, lifes a dream
Lifes an accident
Now Im gonna set them free
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Once upon a time taboo
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Incongruous, and overdue
Letters never sent
song performed by by Carly Simon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was wrong to allow Stalin to shape the European landscape of the 20th century. It would be even more wrong to let him shape the landscape of the 21st century.
quote by Larry Summers

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You, to whom I am myself
O You Who Are - the formless, nameless One,
more real than all forms and names can speak:
You for whom we seek to find a name
and yet who has no name, who needs no name;
You for whom we seek to shape a form
and yet who has no form, who needs no form;
Yet whom we name in every name we speak,
and whom we see in every form we seek:
is there some name bestowed for nameless name,
a form imagined for a formless form,
by which all hearts today that seek themselves
may shape their search as if for One unknown?
may kneel in front of their own golden throne?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Hearts,
who’s spoken of in heartfelt praise of glorious human brilliance,
endeavour, art, achievement and discovery;
the Lord who gave us hearts to know we love?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Self,
whom we all know when we relax, become
more our known self, in silence, rest, or company
that sparkles round a table built of happiness?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Consciousness
in whom we live and move, and be; yet never see
for you’re the seeing in ourself; to whom we wake
and know, and stand securely, watching all?
I ask You for the sound of some new yet eternal name;
that sound by which all quickly know themself
and talk once more from hearts forever free,
of what we are, and know, and love to be.
poem by Michael Shepherd

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50 Years Later
I have no letter to show you my son
Said the modern father to his
Postmodern son.
Epistolary novel is a form of past
Why are you worried about such
Trivial matters like letter?
Asked the modern father to his
Postmodern son.
I got sms in my message box
I got mails in my pc
And deleted to make way to
New ones
Nothing remains forever dear
Said the proud father to his son.
I read about letters in little mags
My friends say it was really amazing
To share thoughts, feelings
Through letters
But you have nothing to show me
Ha! It's really very sad!
You should have some letters dad!
Said the postmodern son.
poem by Amitabh Roy

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Red Letters
Red letters
Cut deep
Soothe the pain inside.
Red letters
Bold and loud
Scream silently.
Red letters
Secret and hidden
But a cry for help.
Red letters -
A way to deal with this pain.
As I cut these words into my skin
I remember seeing red words somewhere before
Then it hits me like a lightning bolt -
Words of Jesus are printed in red. Words of Christ in red.
Red letters
Real truth, piercing deep
Soothes my pain inside.
Red letters
Your passion, Your blood
Covers me.
Red letters
Hope and life
I cry, 'Fill me! '
Red letters -
You were pierced and bloody
So I wouldn't have to be.
'What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
Oh! precious is the flow that makes me white as snow!
No other fount I know -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus! '
Red letters... Nothing but the blood -
Red letters... Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
poem by Zoe MacRae

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Wind
At begining,
I was a breez.
That time the snow
was alone.
I touched on the lotous buds-
born from,
the navel of the sea.
I take this shape at last,
by some one's works.
That time,
You was the sea.
I wrote in you,
at the blueness of the
ocean of letters.
'Will you wait for me? '
'For ever, every where, '
you'll hear what my,
pen have to say.
You said.
I belived-
that has a smell of promise.
I made waves on you.
But you are like a statue,
like one
don't know any thing.
Enough,
i am going to the
mountains of time,
as air,
as invisible.
In my old shape,
As a wind.
poem by Muhammad Mirash

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You're A Concrete Boy Now
Shows)
This has been said so many times that I'm not sure if it matters
We never stood a chance
And I'm not sure if it matters
If you are the shores, I am the waves begging for big moons
I'm mailing letters to addresses in a ghost town
I know this hurts, it was meant to
Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one
And it's mind over (you don't) matter
This has been said so many times that I'm not sure if it matters
But it must be said again that all us boys are just screaming
Into microphones for attention
Because we're just so bored
I never knew that you would pick it apart, oh
I'm falling apart to songs about hips and hearts
I used to obsess over living,
Now I only obsess over you
Tell me you'd like boys like me better
In the dark lying on top of you
This has been said so many times that I'm not sure if it matters
song performed by by Fall Out Boy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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